


Tinted

by kaeda



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-06
Updated: 2006-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-04 23:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeda/pseuds/kaeda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kisame is losing his humanity.  Itachi never had his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tinted

Sometimes his life feels an awful lot like drowning.

Uchiha Itachi doesn't care, doesn't think, doesn't wonder why sometimes when the lights go out he can't truly breathe, doesn't worry about his sanity because the blood-red tint of the Sharingan already reminds him that he's not entirely human. He stands in the bathroom and washes the blood off his face and hands in long, languid strokes, but doesn't look in the mirror because if he did, he'd see empty eyes.

Itachi doesn't regret killing his family, even though sometimes he wonders if he should. He did what was necessary to make him stronger, and the Mangekyou Sharingan has benefited him more than the simpering fools in his family ever could have. His one regret is Sasuke; he should have taken the boy away with him, trained him in hatred under his own watchful eyes, turned him into the same sort of ruthless killer that Itachi himself was. Sasuke was his innocence and his redemption; he should have crushed those traits from him before they had a chance to bloom.

When he finishes cleaning the blood from his hands, he sees Kisame watching him in the mirror. The one constant in his life – no matter how inhuman Itachi becomes, Kisame is always there beside him. Itachi thinks that he doesn't even miss humanity, but what he does miss is the laughter in his partner's eyes. He's pretty sure that Kisame is in love with him, or as in love as mass-murderers are prone to be, and sometimes he wonders what it feels like to love someone who is not whole.

"Itachi-san," Kisame's voice rings out in the silent room. "There's no more blood." Itachi realizes he's been scrubbing viciously at his clean hands until they turned nearly raw, glares at his reflection in the mirror, and turns off the tap. "I got food from the market," Kisame adds.

Itachi is not impressed. Kisame always gets their food, and Itachi hardly eats – it's part of their routine, just like cleaning up after killing. Tonight something is different, however; the emptiness in Kisame's eyes mirrors Itachi's own, and suddenly Itachi knows with stunning clarity that he's stealing away Kisame's humanity as well.

"You shouldn't partner with me anymore," he says abruptly. Probably the most words he's said in days but Kisame doesn't bat an eyelash, just turns and exits the bathroom, lays out the food on the table, and sits down to eat. Itachi sits across from him, eyes slitted dangerously. A long moment passes, ripe with tension.

"Why not?" Kisame asks finally.

'_Because I'm insane_,' Itachi thinks, but doesn't answer him. He stands abruptly, shoving back his chair, and leaves the room. His walks around the Akatsuki complex have grown more and more convoluted, completely nonsensical, and when he runs into the others they always know to avoid his snapping red gaze. Deidara is the only one who has ever bothered to talk to him on these walks, and after he brushed the other man off with a glare, he hadn't attempted it since.

Today when he gets back, Kisame is leaning against the door to his room with the Samehada propped next to him, arms crossed.

"Itachi-san," he says when he notices him. "I will always be your partner."

Itachi fixes him with a glare, but Kisame is solid like stone and just as stubborn and he returns the glare effortlessly, his eyes empty and cold. He's pissed off, Itachi can tell, angry and scared and hurt, and the shark-man's feelings still amuse the sadistic part of his mind, because Itachi can't feel at all.

He vaguely wonders why his chest tightens when he thinks about Kisame losing his humanity.

"You're losing who you are," he tells him harshly, gesturing for him to move out of the way so that he can get into his room. Kisame doesn't comply, sprawling out even further. Itachi could kill him now, easily, before he even has time to reach for the Samehada. He's curious as to why he doesn't.

"And what about you?" Kisame growls lowly, barely audible.

"I've never been anybody," Itachi replies in a tone that clearly implies 'drop it'. Kisame has never been one for social cues, however, and he stands and grabs Itachi by the shoulders, shaking him roughly.

"That's not true," he growls again. "For a cold-blooded killer, I assumed you'd recognize when you were killing _yourself_. You fucking fool." And then his arms are around Itachi and he doesn't know what to think, what to feel. Kisame is solid beneath his touch, strong and real and so very _there_. But even as he can hear the other man's heartbeat and feel his breath tickling his neck, he knows that it can't happen, that he's on his way to hell in a hand basket and he could never forgive himself if he took Kisame along for the ride.

He starts to pull away but Kisame knows him well by now, knows how he thinks and how he feels. Kisame's breath is hot as it travels up his neck, his lips barely caressing Itachi's skin, but the sensation jerks Itachi back to himself, abruptly. The dull red tint of the Sharingan fades for a moment, the world collapses in on itself, and Itachi is _angry_, so angry. For this moment, he can feel, and he can see thousands of Sharingan eyes staring down at him, disappointed, angry, wanting _vengeance_.

Then Kisame's lips are against his and his searing, hot kiss washes it all away. It hits Itachi like a ton of bricks, because he cares for Kisame like he's cared for no one else, even if he shows his affection with bloodied cuts and bruises, and if Sasuke is his redemption then Kisame is his greatest weakness.

And he knows tomorrow he will wake up to the blood-red of the Sharingan again, painting the landscape of his room (or Kisame's), and that he will be cold and void of feeling once more, but as Kisame's hands travel down his back and Kisame's lips paint his skin, Itachi finds for the first time that it hurts to think of tomorrow.


End file.
